


Of Dark Marks and Obsessions

by Mystical_Artist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Through Book 5, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7650451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystical_Artist/pseuds/Mystical_Artist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Obviously,” Malfoy huffed. “Should I bring the friendship bracelets? Or perhaps you have some other childish activity planned? We’re not friends, Potter. Don’t be stupid,” he hissed.  </p>
<p>Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. Obviously they weren’t friends, but Harry didn’t want them to be enemies anymore, either. “I really just want to talk, Malfoy,” Harry murmured, earning a snort from the other. “Well. Hope to er…see you there.” He quickly walked away, mentally slapping himself for saying anything while they were still in the Great Hall. He knew he should’ve just sent an owl and hoped for the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Dark Marks and Obsessions

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been swirling about in my head for years, and I finally got around to doing something about it.

 

 

It was the start of a new school year, and platform 9 ¾ was as busy as ever with eager students saying farewell to their parents for the term, while also greeting well-missed friends. There was a slight wariness in the air as apprehensive thoughts of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named swirled about, and everyone wondered what that meant for the Wizarding world but they all tried their best to hide their worries in order to get the school year off to the best start possible.  
  


Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood on the platform in front of the train taking it all in, and Harry wondered if _he_ had been that small as a First Year as a small group of them trotted on by. He looked over at Ron, who gave him a look of disbelief –clearly having the same thoughts- before moving his gaze over to see a group of Slytherin’s showing off their forearms to each other and trying to scare the younger classmen standing nearby. Harry squinted and saw to his dismay that they were, indeed, all bearing the Dark Mark.  
  


“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked, peering to see what Harry was staring at. Her shoulders slumped when she realized what she was seeing. “Is that what I think it is? They shouldn’t be showing off like that! People already think Hogwarts isn’t safe anymore…”  
  


“Blimey, why don’t they just shout “All Slytherin’s are Death Eaters now!”? That’d make it a lot easier,” Ron grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the group. “Funny, I don’t see any ferrets with them.”  
  


Hermione frowned and gave the Slytherin group another quick once-over. “Maybe he’s already on the train?”  
  


“Yeah, showing off his Mark to anyone that looks at him,” Ron scoffed.  
  


Harry saw Hermione make a face of agreement as he looked around the platform; he didn’t see Malfoy, either. He certainly wasn’t standing with the rest of them, and he wondered if Malfoy had somehow refused to take the Mark. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, but he knew better than to voice the possibility out loud.  
  


Once they were on the train, Harry was separated from his friends due to “Prefect Duties, Harry!”, and he was forced to find an available cabin on his own. He wandered from room to room before finding one with a single occupant sprawled across the seat with his back to the small chamber. He opened the door and simply stood, waiting for the figure to acknowledge him in some way, but quickly closed the door and sat down when he realized Malfoy wasn’t going to look at him.  
  


“So…”Harry started, trying to think of something –anything- to say. “Everywhere else looked like it was full.”  
  


Malfoy continued to ignore him, and Harry fidgeted in his seat. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all…  
  


Harry quickly straightened up in the seat when Malfoy shifted and sat up so they were facing each other. “What do you think you’re doing being in here, Potter? Leave me alone.”

Harry swallowed and glanced down at Malfoy’s arm. He frowned and returned his gaze when he saw Malfoy had on long sleeves. He also noted Malfoy was paler than ever, with dark circles under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept in days. “It didn’t seem fair for you to be by yourself. And…” he looked at Malfoy’s arm again, itching to pull up the sleeve and check for himself.  
  


“For Merlin’s sake, just ask,” Malfoy snapped, though his voice lacked any real malice.  
  


Harry leaned forward in his seat. “Fine. Do you have it? The Mark?” Harry found himself whispering, as though they were about to share some intimate secret.  
  


Malfoy shoved the arm of his sleeve up to reveal…nothing. The pale forearm was free of any blemish, and the Dark Mark was nowhere to be seen.  
  


Harry sat back against the seat and let out a sigh of relief as Malfoy hastily pulled his sleeve down and went back to lying across the seats with his back to Harry.  
  


Harry couldn’t help the childish grin that came across his face. He couldn’t believe that he had actually been right about Malfoy not being a Death Eater.  He wondered what made Malfoy change his mind; he had been so adamant about becoming just like his father before…  
  


“Stop grinning like a fool, Potter,” Malfoy muttered, still facing away from Harry.  
  


Harry bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tapped his fingers against the seat as he stared at Malfoy’s back.  “Er…how’d you know? That I was grinning, I mean.”  
  


Malfoy huffed and sat up, turning so he was once again facing Harry. “It’s certainly clear why you didn’t end up in Ravenclaw, isn’t it? You’re too dim-witted and oblivious for that.”  
  


Harry scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, well, it’s _certainly clear_ why you didn’t end up in Hufflepuff; you’re too much of an arrogant git for that,” he retorted.  
  


Malfoy smirked as he fiddled unconsciously with his sleeve.  “Touché, Potter.”  
  


Harry couldn’t stop himself from repeatedly glancing down at Malfoy’s arm. Had it really been bare? Ron had been so sure that there would be an ugly mark there; even Hermione had seemed pretty convinced, and Harry almost wanted to make sure Malfoy wasn’t using a charm or something to hide it.  
  


Then again, Harry thought with a frown, if Malfoy had the Mark he wouldn’t be hiding it. He’d probably be walking up and down the train with his sleeve pushed up, showing it off and gloating with the other Slytherins.  
  


Harry found himself reaching out and touching Mafloy’s arm before pushing up the sleeve to once again reveal the pale flesh of his forearm. He lightly ran his index finger over the pale flesh before quickly pulling away, his face red with embarrassment. What was wrong with him?  
  


He stole a glance at Malfoy to see him dramatically rolling his eyes.  
  


“What are you going to do next, kiss it?” He drawled, tugging the sleeve down and crossing his arms. “The Weasel already looks ready to kill someone, so I really wouldn’t recommend it,” Malfoy continued, tilting his head toward the cabin door.  
  


Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he looked over and saw Ron and Hermione staring at him in disbelief through the window.  
  


He quickly stood up and slid the door open, almost tripping in the process, before stepping out into the hallway of the train. He closed the door behind him and awkwardly stood with his hands in his pockets as Ron’s ears turned a dangerous shade of red.  
  


“Hi, guys. Um…how’s it…going..?” He asked intelligently.  
  


“Harry, what are you thinking? Why are you sharing a cabin with Malfoy?” Hermione inquired, shifting her weight from one foot to the other with her arms crossed.  
  


Harry glanced back at Malfoy, who had returned to his previous position of lying across the seats with his face toward the back cushions, his knees bent to accommodate his height. “Oh, you know, this cabin was pretty much empty, so…”  
  


“What, you’d rather sit with _Malfoy_ than Neville and the others?” Ron demanded, his ears turning an even darker shade of red.  
  


“Of course not! It’s just…everywhere else was full, and he was here by himself….” Harry wasn’t sure how to bring up that Malfoy had looked so sullen and lifeless sitting there on his own; he knew Ron would never see it that way. To him, once a ferret, always a ferret.  
  


“What’d you mean “everywhere else was full”? Ginny was saving a spot for you with the others! Whatever,” Ron spat,” you’re obviously too good to sit with them now. Trying to befriend a _Malfoy_ who is clearly a _Death Eater_ …”  
  


Harry glanced through the window at him and then back at Ron and Hermione. Malfoy was still lying across the seat, but Harry knew he was listening. Honestly, the whole train could probably hear their conversation; Ron certainly wasn’t being quiet about it. “It’s not that. He’s just…he’s different, alright? Maybe we were wrong about him,” he murmured.  
  


Ron snorted and crossed his arms. “Still looks like a Death Eater arse to me.”  
  


Harry scratched his head. “He didn’t take…you know…he doesn’t have it. The Mark,” he said, gesturing helplessly at his own arm. “He isn’t a Death Eater.”  
  


Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know, Harry…I know you want to think that, but you can’t be sure. He’s been bragging for years about wanting to be a Death Eater; why would he refuse to now?”  
  


Harry could feel the rage building up inside him. Malfoy’s arm was completely bare and it’s not like he’d hide it if he _was_ a Death Eater; he’d be showing it off to everyone, not sitting alone in the train cabin. Hewasn’t sure why he was so bent on defending Malfoy of all people, but seeing Ron and Hermione not even _trying_ to understand was infuriating.  
  


“I saw his arm! And it WASN’T THERE, ALRIGHT!?” Harry yelled, causing the other students to poke their heads out and stare at him. Ron made a rude gesture at them with his hand and they slowly retreated back into their cabins, frantically whispering as they went.  
  


Hermione placed a hand on his arm. “Harry, calm down.  Did you check to see if he’s using a charm of some kind to hide it? Maybe he just didn’t want you to see…”  
  


Harry huffed and glanced at Malfoy again, who was now sitting up and watching him with a frown. “He’s not hiding anything. I checked. There’s no charm, no…” he gestured absently at his forearm, “nothing.” Harry didn’t mention that he didn’t _actually_ check for a charm; running his fingers along Malfoy’s arm was hardly a fool-proof examination. He had assumed they’d seen him touching Malfoy’s forearm, but neither was mentioning it and _he_ sure wasn’t going to bring it up…  
  


Hermione nodded and glanced at Ron. “Right. Well, we should really get back to our patrols. We’ll see you in the Great Hall, alright?”  
  


Ron began walking away, clearly still annoyed, as Hermione lingered under the pretense of fixing Harry’s tie. “I believe you, Harry. Just…give Ronald a little more time. He just needs to cool down, that’s all. You’ve always been a bit…obsessed with Malfoy, and he just doesn’t want your judgment to be clouded.”  
  


Harry nodded as she started after Ron and slowly re-entered the cabin. He hoped she was right.

\---

 

The school year had just started, and Harry was already feeling overwhelmed with his classes. It didn’t help matters any that he was too distracted by Malfoy to really focus on his studies, something Hermione was constantly pestering him about.    
  


But really, it wasn’t his fault Malfoy wasn’t acting at all like his former self and was quiet and gloomy all the time. Even when Ron felt the need to pick a fight, Malfoy would simply look down and shrug, not taking the bait. At least, Harry thought, Ron had gotten over his anger from the train and was more focused on taunting Malfoy than worrying about whether he was a Death Eater or not.  
  


“I’m telling you mate, it’s going to be a bloody boring year if he’s going to act like that all the time,” Ron said as they exited another Potions lesson. “Oi! Get your head out of your arse, Malfoy!” he called as Malfoy slowly walked down the dungeon hallway, earning a swift smack from Hermione.  
  


“Ron, quit harassing him! How can you expect to set a good example as a Prefect when you’re constantly trying to pick a fight? You might get those privileges taken away! ” Hermione scolded.  
  


“Yes, ma’am,” Ron mumbled as Hermione headed toward another set of back-to-back classes. “He brings it upon himself, though. Really…”  
  


“I can still hear you, Ronald!” Hermione called as she continued to walk away.  
  


Harry glanced behind him and saw Malfoy had stopped walking and was watching them. Harry gave a small, jerky nod, hoping it would come across as encouraging. Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows with a frown before turning around and walking away. So much for encouragement, Harry thought.

\---

 

As they entered the Great Hall, Harry noticed that Malfoy was sitting by himself, as was the new usual. The other Slytherin’s were giving him a wide berth, forcing him to sit among a group of First Years. Harry couldn’t stop a frown, and mostly pushed the food around on his plate as he watched Malfoy stare off into space.  
  


“Aren’t you hungry, Harry?” Neville asked with concern, busily tucking in to his own plate.  
  


Harry looked over to Neville and simply shook his head. “No, not really. I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind, you know?”  Like why Malfoy had a change of heart and didn’t become like his father, or how the other Slytherin’s were really treating him behind closed doors. Also, Harry wondered, why Malfoy was somehow more pale than usual.  
  


Neville enthusiastically nodded. “I know that feeling. Professor Slughorn’s given me a bunch of books to try and help me with Potions. I’ve barely had time to do anything else since I’ve started reading them! Not that it’s going to help at all; I’m hopeless at Potions. Why, just the other day…”  
  


Harry listened with feigned interest, all while keeping an eye out on Malfoy. He saw Malfoy get up and head for the door, and quickly got up himself, apologizing to Neville for leaving in a hurry. He got to Malfoy just before he walked out of the Great Hall and placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.  
  


Malfoy let out a startled jump and turned to face Harry with a half-hearted glare. “Potter? What do you think you’re doing? Grab me again and you’re going to get hexed."  
  


“Er…” Harry hesitated. What _was_ he doing? The entire hall had gone almost eerily silent, and Harry could feel everyone watching them.  “I was hoping we could talk. Not here. You know, somewhere else. I have a few things I’d like to ask.”  
  


Malfoy snorted. “Somewhere else? Why don’t I jump up on the tables and shout my answers to the whole school? Everyone has already come to their own conclusions about me, perhaps you should just do the same and. Leave. Me. Alone.”  
  


Harry sighed. It had been foolish of him to think Malfoy would be eager to talk to him. Still, he had to try; he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without calming his mind a little. “Look, just…meet me by the Room of Requirement later. Let’s say…7:30. You know where I mean, right?”  
  


“Obviously,” Malfoy huffed. “Should I bring the friendship bracelets? Or perhaps you have some other childish activity planned? We’re not friends, Potter. Don’t be stupid,” he hissed.    
  


Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. Obviously they weren’t friends, but Harry didn’t want them to be enemies anymore, either. “I really just want to talk, Malfoy,” Harry murmured, earning a snort from the other. “Well. Hope to er…see you there.” He quickly walked away, mentally slapping himself for saying anything while they were still in the Great Hall. He knew he should’ve just sent an owl and hoped for the best.  
  


He briefly wondered if he should conjure up some friendship bracelets as a joke, and potentially a peace offering, but quickly dismissed the idea. Malfoy likely wouldn’t see it that way, and Harry wasn’t sure he’d want it to be a joke himself. He stifled a laugh at the thought and headed back to the common room to wait, all while wondering when exactly he’d lost his mind.  
  


\---

Harry paced in the hall in front of the room, trying not to check his watch. He glanced up and down the nearby hallways, hoping to see Malfoy walking toward him. The whole thing was rubbish; from asking Malfoy in front of everyone, to expecting him to show up in the first place, to arriving almost half an hour early to their meeting spot… He sighed and checked his watch again, which read 7:31.  
  


“Keep checking that, Potter, and people will think you actually give a rats arse about being on time.”  
  


Harry swiftly turned around with a grin, subtly giving the blond a once-over as he did so. He seemed to be in a better mood than earlier, which Harry took as a good sign. He had also ditched his robe, and was dressed in a simple sweater and black pants, which struck Harry as being very put together, at least compared to his own state of dress with his baggy clothes. Harry shook his head, not wanting Malfoy to think he was checking him out or anything, and quickly paced in front of the wall, standing back as the door appeared before them. He gestured with a hand for Malfoy to go in first.  
  


Harry paused as soon as he entered the Room of Requirement when he saw the scene before him. All he had asked for was a nice and quiet place to talk, but the room had set up a table with two chairs in front of a roaring fire. Harry saw with dismay that there were candles and flowers on the table as well, in addition to an elegant dinner set out for them.  
  


“If I didn’t know any better, Potter, I’d say this was a date,” Malfoy said, walking toward the table. He ran his fingers across a flower petal, likely testing to see if it was real, Harry thought, before sitting down. Did wizards even use artificial flowers? Harry frowned at the thought; this was not the time to figure that out.  
  


“I think the room misunderstood what I meant,” Harry replied, sitting down across from him. His stomach growled as he studied the meal, and he was suddenly glad the room had provided dinner; he’d been too distracted earlier to eat much of anything. “I just asked for a place to talk. Not…” Harry gestured to their surroundings, “Not this.”  
  


“Not trying to woo me, then? Shame,” Malfoy said, causing Harry’s heart to skip a beat as he warily eyed the dinner set out before them. “What do you want then, Potter? Let’s get this over with.”  
  


“Well,” Harry started, taking a bite, “before we start, I think you should eat first.”  
  


Malfoy frowned at him. “What?”  
  


Harry swallowed and gestured to Malfoy’s plate with his fork. “You’ve barely been eating lately. Whenever you’re in the Great Hall, all you do is stare off into space. You _look_ plain unhealthy, and…” he quickly trailed off when he realized it sounded as though he was obsessing over Malfoy’s daily routine. Which he wasn’t. Not at all.  
  


_Liar._ Harry shook his head at the thought and tried to focus on the task before him.  
  


Malfoy snorted. “Alright, _mother_. I don’t need you to take care of me. The last time I checked, my well-being was none of your business.”  
  


Harry simply sat and stared at him until Malfoy let out a grumble, finally grabbing his fork and taking a bite. Harry gave a small nod and continued with his own dinner. He’d have to go down to the kitchens later and thank the house elves for the flavorsome meal.  
  


“So,” Harry began once they had both finished eating. “Are your classes er….going well?”  
  


Malfoy rolled his eyes. “For Merlin’s sake, get to the point! I hate small talk. _Yes_ , they’re going fine. _No,_ my marks haven’t slipped. And _yes,_ I’ve been working just as hard as before,” he said, dropping his silverware on the table. “Oh, and _yes,_ Potty is somehow being more infuriating than before.”  
  


Harry gave him a blank look, deciding to ignore the insult. Now that he finally had Malfoy alone, the last thing he wanted was to fight and ruin whatever shaky alliance they currently had. “Fine, we’ll skip the small talk. Why’d you decide not to become a Death Eater? I figured you’d love to be one, with your father and all…”  
  


Malfoy’s face turned a somehow paler shade of white as he pressed his lips together in annoyance. “Did it ever occur to you people that I _don’t_ want to be like my arrogant git of a father?” He said quietly, his voice dangerously low and shaking slightly in anger.  
  


“Um…no?” Harry stammered, sure he had really messed up this time by pissing Malfoy off. “Not until recently, anyway. I mean, you always…you know, bragged about how great he is, and…”  
  


 “People change their minds all the time, _Potter_ , and _yes_ , that includes someone like me,” he replied as he stood up from the table. “I won’t be a slave to You-Know-Who like him. I refuse. Now,” he continued, “If you’re done with your silly interrogation, I’m leaving.”  
  


Harry sighed. He knew he should have opened with a different question, something simple to not scare the other off. But he wasn’t done yet. He somehow had more questions than before, and he didn’t want Malfoy to leave before at least some of them were answered.  
  


“No!” Harry ejected, earning raised eyebrows from Malfoy. “I mean…I do have more to ask. I’ll try not to be an arse about it this time, though. Um… Please?”  
  


Malfoy placed his hands in his pockets for a moment, and Harry was sure he was reaching for his wand to hex him, but Malfoy instead shrugged and walked back over to sit down. “Hurry up, then. _Some_ of us have essays to write, since _some_ of us actually care about our marks. We can’t all scrape by on our Golden Boy name.”  
  


Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you talking about that essay for Snape? That’s not due for another week!”  
  


“And if you were smart, which you are _not_ , you would realize there’s an enormous amount of research that goes into it. And since I _am_ smart, I’m starting on it now,” Malfoy retorted with a small smirk.  
  


Harry felt the familiar feeling of dread at having Snape scrutinize every miniscule thing about his essay, finding imaginary flaws and declaring them to the entire class. He knew, without a doubt, that he would receive a terrible score, no matter _how_ much research he did. Still, he’d have to check with Hermione later. Maybe he could copy some of hers…  
  


“He’ll know if you copy off someone else. And unlike the other professors, he won’t let it slide simply because of who you are.”  
  


Harry looked at Malfoy is slight disbelief. “How’d you know I was going to copy?”  
  


Malfoy snorted. “Between you, the Weasel, and Granger, there’s only one person with a brain. And it’s obviously not you. The whole school knows she does all the work between you three. Has been for years,” Malfoy said, abruptly standing up from the table. “Well. I’m leaving. I’ve had enough of your questions.”  
  


Harry watched with a frown as Malfoy walked toward the door. “Wait!” Harry called, standing up and walking over toward Malfoy. “I still have things to ask you.”  
  


Malfoy shrugged and opened the door. “Too bad, Potter.”

\---

 

“Harry! Where in the world have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” Hermione exclaimed as soon as Harry entered the common room. Harry eyed the mountain of homework in front of her and Ron and mentally groaned as he remembered the amount of homework he still had to do as well. It was going to be a long night.  
  


“She’s right, mate. We were looking everywhere. Neville told us you left during the middle of dinner?” Ron asked with a confused look. He tossed his quill down in front of him and rubbed his eyes with a yawn as he waited for Harry to answer.  
  


“Er,” Harry stammered. If Ron knew he was with Malfoy, he’d be furious, but if he lied about it, Hermione would know and call him out on it. The truth, he decided, would be the best option. After all, it was typically easier to calm Ron down than to deal with Hermione’s ever growing disappointment in him. “The Room of Requirement. Um. With Malfoy.”  
  


“Bloody hell, Harry. Why’d you want to do that? That Death Eater could’ve killed you!” Ron frowned.  
  


Harry glanced at Hermione, who had gone back to her books with a knowing smile. He looked at Ron again, who was looking at him expectantly. “Well, he er…didn’t try to kill me. Or hex me, even,” Harry started, scratching the back of his head. “I just told him I wanted to talk to him and that’s all we really did.”  
  


“’That’s all we really did’? Blimey, Harry. You should have just hexed him and gotten the information you wanted. Hanging out with Malfoy in the Room of Requirement…” Ron replied with a shudder.  
  


“Honestly Ron, grow up.” Hermione interjected, looking up from her book, “It’s not like they were snogging or anything! All they did was talk a little bit!”  
  


Ron gave her a look of utter disgust before grabbing his quill and going back to his homework. “Thanks for that image, ‘Mione. You’re going to give me nightmares now,” he groaned as he scratched his quill on the parchment. “Like anyone would want to snog a Malfoy, anyway. Bloody horrific...”  
  


Harry quickly grabbed his bag and started in on his own homework. He found it difficult to focus since Hermione’s comment had caused a massive amount of butterflies to appear in his stomach. It’s not like he’d _wanted_ to snog Malfoy. Definitely not. No way.  
  


_Liar.  
  
_

He shook his head at the familiar internal comment and tried to get started on the latest essay for McGonagall.

\---

 

The next few weeks passed without incident, and Harry was itching for another chance to pull Malfoy aside and question him further. The blond had clearly been avoiding him, and it certainly didn’t help that Hermione’s snogging comment emerged in his mind every time they crossed paths. Malfoy probably thought he was having some sort of fit, since his face was always red whenever he so much as glanced at Harry.  
  


“Harry, why’s your face all red? You feeling alright?” Neville asked as they sat in the Great Hall for lunch.  
  


Harry quickly averted his eyes from the Slytherin table over to Neville, who was sitting across from him with a look of concern.  He mentally smacked himself for not being able to control his gaze.“What? Oh, it’s…nothing. I was just thinking about…er…quidditch. And how close that last game was. I can’t believe we lost!”  
  


Neville nodded in agreement. “I hear you. It sure was something to watch. Hey,” he continued, forcing Harry to look away from Malfoy again. “You should talk to Ginny later. She said she wants to practice some stuff before the next game. I’m sure she’d love it if you went with her.”  
  


“Oh,” Harry replied. “Yeah….I’ll have to talk to her later about that.” He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he wouldn’t. He was too distracted to be much help to anyone, even when it came to quidditch.  
  


“Hey, have you heard?” Neville started, leaning forward to try and be more discreet. “There’s a rumor going around that Draco Malfoy hexed a bunch of Slytherins when they asked if he was going to become a Death Eater. It’s weird, I figured he already w _as_ one. He sure seems unhappy most of the time; I figured that was why. I mean, who’d want to join those guys?”  
  


“…What?” Harry choked as he grabbed his pumpkin juice and stuffed the rest of his treacle tart down before continuing. “When did this happen?”  
  


Neville shrugged and continued eating. “Just last week, by the sounds of it. He sent a bunch of people to the infirmary and I heard even Professor Dumbledore got involved.”  
  


Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “How did I not hear about this? Everyone must’ve been talking about it.”  
  


“Everyone w _as_ ,” Neville frowned. “You seem like you’ve been distracted lately. Maybe you just didn’t hear when we were talking about it? I thought you were listening, but I guess not.”  
  


Harry simply sat in thought, his empty cup of pumpkin juice still resting in his hand. How had he missed that? He’d been keeping tabs on Malfoy ever since the term had started. He certainly _had_ been distracted lately, between Malfoy and now Dumbledore constantly wanting to see him to discuss Voldemort’s past, it was no wonder he’d missed something so obvious. When Malfoy got up and left the Great Hall, Harry quickly got up and followed him.  
  


Harry huffed as he tried to keep up with Malfoy, who was taking a ridiculously obscure route through the castle. He rounded the corner of an abandoned hallway –he wasn’t sure which floor they were even on now- and narrowly avoided crashing into the blond, who had finally stopped just around the corner.  
  


Malfoy was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him, glaring at Harry. “Honestly, Potter. You just don’t take a hint, do you?”  
  


“Well, I’m not that thick. You’ve obviously been avoiding me,” Harry said with a shrug. He felt drastically out of breath, and yet Malfoy didn’t seem the least bit winded. He quietly hoped Malfoy hadn’t noticed, and then mentally smacked himself for worrying what Malfoy thought of him. That wasn’t the point right now.  
  


“Would you look at that, Potty actually has a brain.” Malfoy replied, pushing himself off from the wall and uncrossing his arms. “Funnily enough, being harassed with your meaningless questions doesn’t sound appealing at the moment, but-”  
  


Harry interrupted him with a frown. “I wouldn’t say I’m _harassing_ you with them.”  
  


Malfoy snorted, dramatically rolling his eyes. “And yet here we are. Well, get it over with, if you’re going to.”  
  


Harry awkwardly cleared his throat, his mind going blank now that he was put on the spot. “Er…did you really hex a bunch of other Slytherin’s and send them to the infirmary? You know, since they’re Death Eater’s and you’re not…Everyone’s been talking about it.”    
  


“Really, Potter. You bore me with the same stupid questions over and over again. Death Eater this, Death Eater that. Either get over it, or ask something new,” Malfoy drawled. “Now, I have some questions of my own.”  
  


“Oh….” Harry said in a surprised tone; he hadn’t really planned on that. “Well…alright, then. That sounds fair, I suppose.”  
  


Malfoy’s lips twitched upward in a slight smirk before he began. “That invisibility cloak of yours is really something, Potter. I’d be extremely interested to know where you got it. Yes,” he said, holding up a delicate hand, “I know all about that. You aren’t nearly as clever with that thing as you think you are.”  
  


Harry stood in shock with his mouth foolishly open. How did he know about that? He automatically began backing up when Malfoy pulled out his wand and held it to his throat, eventually hitting the wall on the other side of the hallway. He quickly glanced around, but saw that they were still alone; the hallway was completely deserted.  
  


“I know you’ve been spying on me with that thing. Suddenly Potter is there, and then,” he made a vague gesture with his hand,” gone. Watching me study in the library, following me to the lake, and,” he paused, leaning in slightly, “Here’s the real shocker, _following me to the Prefect’s bathroom_.”  
  


Harry swallowed loudly. That had been an accident, really. He’d been trying to avoid a rather obsessed fourth year who had been making heart eyes at him all day, and who had slipped a love potion of some sort into his pumpkin juice at dinner. Ducking into the Prefect’s bathroom had been an easy escape; he hadn’t considered someone coming into the bathroom until Malfoy had strolled in. Still, he knew there was no point in telling him that; Malfoy would never believe him.  
  


“Potty has a dirty mind. Did you enjoy it? Watching me take my bath?” Malfoy said, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  


“N-no,” Harry stammered. With Malfoy so close, he could barely concentrate enough to get any words out, let alone defend himself against anything. The whole situation made him look like some sort of pervy old man…  
  


_It’s not like they were snogging_.  
  


Harry’s eyes flickered down to Malfoy’s lips at the thought before he caught himself and glanced up, looking anywhere but Malfoy’s face, for he knew Malfoy had seen him do it. He briefly closed his eyes, silently berating himself for being stupid. Hermione’s words were a constant echo in his mind these days, but he was usually able to push the thoughts away.  
  


“Hmm, so that’s how it is,” Malfoy murmured, tapping his wand lightly against Harry’s throat before slipping it back into his pocket. “Not today, Potter.”  
  


Before he knew it, Malfoy had walked away and disappeared out of his sight. Harry stayed leaning against the wall for either hours or minutes; he really wasn’t sure how much time had passed. What did he mean, “not today”? He ran those words through his head over and over until he realized he had somehow made it back to the common room. He gave a brief wave to Neville, who was sitting by the fire, before going up and falling face-first onto his bed.  
  


He wondered if he could just Obliviate himself and call it a day.

\---

 

The next few months passed in a blur of exams and essays and before Harry knew it, he was saying farewell to his friends for the duration of Christmas break. His decision to stay behind at Hogwarts had been met with bewilderment from Ron, but Hermione had quietly agreed that it was good of him to remain at school to “catch up on his studying”, though they all knew he was only staying to keep an eye on Malfoy  who wasn’t going home either.  
  


At some point, Ron had come to terms with Harry’s “D Situation”, as he had unfortunately started calling it –always with a slight look of bewilderment and disgust- and had even discreetly hung mistletoe around the common room before heading home. “You might need it, mate,” he had said in a slightly embarrassed tone, and Harry wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or annoyed. Who said he needed mistletoe? He had felt a quick slap back to reality when Ron had added in a mocking tone, “Not today, Potter,” before snickering and lightly smacking his ribs. “See you in a few weeks, alright? Try not to get your bits hexed off!”  
  


And so Harry found himself wandering the nearly empty castle a few days before Christmas, his invisibility cloak in his bag and the Maurader’s map folded in his hand. He’d just seen Malfoy’s name on the map, but now he was nowhere to be found. He stopped and unfolded the map with a frown. He could have sworn Malfoy would be at the end of this hallway…  
  


“My, my. You just have all sorts of interesting things, don’t you, Potter?” Malfoy said from behind him. He quickly grabbed the map from Harry, who let out a noise of protest, and began looking it over. “You defeat a Dark Lord as an infant and suddenly you’re entitled to…let’s see here…a map of the castle _and_ a cloak of invisibility? What else have you got? An all-powerful wand? A device that lets you Apparate inside the castle?”  
  


“How’d you sneak up on me like that?” Harry asked with a look of bewilderment. When he had looked just moments before, Malfoy had been much further away. He certainly hadn’t been _behind_ him…  
  


Malfoy continued to watch the names of the few people left in the castle moving about on the map. “Well, if you’d get your head out of your arse and actually look _up_ instead of staring at this thing,” he said in an annoyed tone, folding the map up and pocketing it, “You would have seen me.”  
  


Harry gave him a blank look. He hadn’t seen _any_ one while walking down the hallway, let alone Malfoy.  
  


“You literally walked right by me, Potter.”  
  


Harry frowned. Maybe he really _did_ have his head in his arse. He shrugged, it’s not like he could do anything about that now. “Yeah, must be I did. Hey, how come you didn’t go home for Christmas? I’d imagine Malfoy Manor is packed with trees and presents to spoil you with; I can’t imagine you’d want to miss out on that.”  
  


Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “You-Know-Who is using it as a base of operations. Don’t you read the Daily Prophet? Why do you _think_ I don’t want to go prancing home?”  
  


Harry felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. “Um. Yeah, I definitely didn’t know that. Sorry.” He tried not to think about how Malfoy would probably never be entirely welcome at home now, after refusing the Dark Mark. He thought of Malfoy sitting alone in the dungeons of Hogwarts on Christmas morning, without a single present to open. The thought made him feel sick.  
  


“Hey, er….what’re you doing for Christmas? I’d rather not spend it miserable by myself, and I don’t see why you should, either,” Harry said, hoping it didn’t sound quite as lame out loud as it did in his head.  
  


Malfoy gave him a condescending look. “You’d rather be miserable here at school than go back to your Weasel friend’s family. Yes, that absolutely makes sense. Poor, unhappy Potter, all alone. Well, you bring your _misery_ upon yourself, then.”  
  


Harry scratched the back of his head, wondering why he’d ever used the word ‘miserable’ to describe his current state; it couldn’t be farther from the truth. “You didn’t answer my question. You know, about Christmas.”  
  


“I’m aware of that,” Malfoy said, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I don’t have any plans. Dare I ask what you have in mind?”  
  


“Er….” Harry stammered. He hadn’t really thought of anything, since the chances of Malfoy agreeing had seemed slim in his mind. “You could…hmm. Meet me at the courtyard that morning.”  
  


Malfoy scoffed. “In the freezing cold? You’d better not keep me out there all day, Potter. I absolutely hate the cold.”  
  


Harry shook his head. “We won’t stay out there all day. Just for a bit. I’m going to go crazy if I’m cooped up in the castle much longer.” He’d wanted to go flying, but the temperatures were too frigid for that, and any warming spell he’d tried lately hadn’t done the trick. His never seemed to work as well as Hermione’s.  
  


Malfoy inclined his head in agreement. “Fine. We’ll meet then.”  
  


\---

Harry stood in the courtyard, trying not to shiver as he eagerly waited for Malfoy. Harry knew he needed to get out of the castle more often, and if _he_ needed to, Malfoy certainly did as well.  
  


“If I get sick because of this, I’m going to kill you, Potter,” Malfoy grumbled as he stomped through the snow toward him. He’d dressed in plenty of layers, Harry saw, but still looked miserable. Harry almost suggested they go back inside and scrap the whole thing, but quickly changed his mind. He hadn’t been kidding about hating being cooped up in the castle.  
  


Harry chuckled. “I didn’t think you were going to come at all, with the way you made me wait. Now _I’m_ frozen through.”  
  


Malfoy shrugged. “Come up with a better idea next time. What do you plan on doing out here, anyway? Not flying, I hope,” Malfoy said, glancing up at the cloudy sky; it had just started to snow again. “No, I think I would have to refuse.”  
  


Harry crept up behind Malfoy while he was complaining and promptly pushed him face-first into the snow before lying down next to him –not too close- and began making a snow angel.  
  


“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, you tosser?” Malfoy said irritably, brushing snow off of his face. “I just said I hate the cold and then…are you having a fit or something? What do you call _that?”  
  
_

Harry glanced over at Malfoy in slight disbelief, still moving his arms and legs. “What, don’t tell me you’ve never made a snow angel before! There’s no way that’s just a Muggle thing. I mean, even _Ron_ knows what they are, and he doesn’t know anyth-“ he quickly stopped trying to explain when Malfoy shoved a mound of snow onto his face. “Argh, what’s the matter with you!?”  
  


Malfoy simply shrugged and stood up. “I tire of your constant prattling. I want to go back inside.”  
  


Harry sat up and brushed futilely at his snow covered form. “Spoiled brat,” he muttered, quickly giving up on cleaning himself off. Malfoy simply stared at him, but didn’t deny it. “Well, now what?” Harry asked.   
  


“I want to go back inside,” Malfoy stubbornly repeated. “I hate the cold.”  
  


Harry stood up with a sigh. “Fine, then. We’ll go back in. I don’t see how you’ve ever made it through a game of Quidditch if you hate that cold t _hat_ much…”  
  


They both trudged back to the castle, Harry clearly annoyed and Malfoy seemly distracted and lost in thought. Malfoy started branching off from Harry toward the dungeons shortly after they got back inside.  
  


“Hey…where are you going?” Harry asked.  
  


Malfoy looked at him as though he were stupid. Though lately, Harry thought, he was really beginning to question his own intelligence. “Back to the common room. Obviously.”  
  


Harry shook his head. “No. Come back to the Gryffindor common room. I’m sure it’s warmer and more inviting than yours. Ours isn’t an unpleasant dungeon.”  
  


Malfoy hesitated, long enough that Harry thought he would refuse, but he eventually rolled his eyes and made a vague gesture with his hand that Harry took to mean ‘lead the way’.  It wasn’t until they’d reached the portrait that Harry began to wonder if Malfoy would even be _allowed_ into the Gryffindor common room. It took what little charm Harry had to convince the Fat Lady to allow Malfoy in, but once they were, he immediately felt better once he saw the roaring flames in the fireplace. He glanced over at Malfoy, who was slowly wandering around the room with a look of mild disgust as he removed some of his outdoor layers.  
  


“Ugh, do they think you’ll forget what House you belong to? All this red and gold makes me want to vomit. Not to mention there’s mistletoe all over the bloody place…” Malfoy muttered, examining a half-played game of chess, likely forgotten by a homeward-bound student before Christmas break. He moved a knight, causing it to destroy the enemy bishop with a violent swing of its sword. He smirked before heading over to settle himself in on the sofa in front of the fire. “Yes, I can see there’s a blasted thing of mistletoe right above here, Potter. Don’t get any ideas. It’s not like there’s anywhere to sit without being surrounded by them,” Malfoy drawled.  
  


Harry winced as he removed his scarf and coat. He’d somehow forgotten about the mistletoe. “…Ron’s the one who did all of that. A joke, probably.” He tentatively sat next to Malfoy on the sofa, feeling moody and disappointed at his outdoor plans being foiled. He briefly wondered if _he_ was the spoiled brat as he took off his glasses and set them on the table in front of them. He leaned back into the sofa and pressed his hands against his closed eyes. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he had been called that.  
  


Between his ever growing obsession with Malfoy, and Dumbledore wanting him to find out about Horcruxes –whatever _those_ were-, this year was shaping up to be even more stressful than usual. Not for the first time, Harry wished Sirius was still here so he could ask for his advice. He felt a pang of sadness at the thought of his godfather before Malfoy elbowed him sharply in the side, causing him to lower his hands from his face. “You’re hardly full of holiday cheer. Stop moping, for Merlin’s sake,” Malfoy grumbled.  
  


“Sod off, Malfoy,” Harry said, lightly smacking his leg into Malfoy’s in retaliation.  
  


“Is that why you dragged me up here, so you could act like a child and force me to watch? Honestly, Potter. That’s surprisingly rude of you, especially since I already have to witness it every day,” Malfoy said, his voice lacking any serious venom.  
  


Harry settled himself in to the sofa even more. “If you want to leave, I suppose I won’t stop you. I _did_ get you a gift though, so if you stick around I’ll go grab it later.” He stole a glance over at Malfoy and saw a look of surprise flash across his face before he quickly hid it with his usual mask of indifference.  
  


“…You shouldn’t have done that. Really,” Malfoy muttered, lightly smacking Harry’s leg with his own again, gentler this time. “It’s not like I got anything for _you_. You already have your invisibility cloak and the fancy map of the castle, so what else does the Golden Boy really need?”  
  


Harry snorted. “ _You_ still have the Maur…er…my map. I’d like it back, you know. I didn’t expect a gift in return, anyway, but that would definitely work.”  
  


Malfoy shrugged. “You’ll get it back when I feel like giving it back. I’m in no hurry; not with your current little _attitude_ , anyway.”  
  


Harry let out an annoyed sigh and went back to staring at the fire. He wasn’t really sure _what_ his problem was, now. Malfoy shifted next to him, and Harry’s eyes widened in surprise when Malfoy leaned over and pressed his lips to Harry’s jawline, just below his ear. He did it once more –slightly lower this time- before Harry looked away from the fire to turn his body toward Malfoy with a gaping stare.  
  


“I told you to cheer up, Potter. Your constant sulking bores me,” Malfoy said, his voice almost inaudible.  
  


“And here you were telling _me_ not to get any ideas. Hypocrite,” Harry stuttered, his face erupting into a childish grin. He glanced up to see a giant bundle of mistletoe above them.  
  


Malfoy shrugged. “Your constant stares of longing certainly made it clear what you wanted. It’s not as though you’ve been subtle about it. So there,” he said, waving his hand, “There’s your present, Potter.”  
  


Harry stared at him with a slight shake of his head. “You’re impossible. If you’re going to do it, do it properly,” he said, lightly grabbing the front of Malfoy’s sweater before snogging him on the lips. He’d have to get Ron a new broom or something, and thank him for the cheesy mistletoe once he got back from The Burrow….  
  


“I should have just given back the bloody map,” Malfoy muttered as Harry pressed a kiss against his bare forearm. “And will you stop _obsessing_ over that?” Malfoy said, lightly pulling his arm away from Harry’s mouth.  
  


Harry leaned back with a smirk. “Yeah, that would’ve been easier. And no, I don’t think I’ll stop _obsessing_ over you anytime soon, Malfoy.” Harry said, reaching to pull the sleeve back down over Malfoy’s arm. “By the way, I’ve been wondering about something for a while now…” He reached over and grabbed his glasses from the table and put them on. “How’d you know I was in the Prefect’s bathroom with you that time?”  
  


Now it was Malfoy’s turn to smirk. “I didn’t. It was simply a lucky guess. Your face is an open book; might want to work on that,” Malfoy said, eyeing Harry’s lips as he did.  
  


“Sneaky bastard…” Harry muttered, pulling him in for another kiss.  
  


Malfoy shrugged. “I’m a Slytherin, Potter. What’d you expect?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's been an embarrassing amount of years since I've read the books, so I really just went off my memory and the films for this.   
> Feedback is always welcome.


End file.
